Dork
by CheatingAtMonkeyBall
Summary: Samuel Evans was on a quest to find the real person behind Santana Lopez's snarky exterior. Samtana Sam/Santana. This is what you get when it's midnight and I'm pissed at the Glee writers. T for some select words. Fluff cuz I'm just so good at that.


Dork

-;-;-

Samuel Evans hadn't been at McKinley High for more than a semester and a few weeks, but he knew what Santana Lopez was all about. She was all about being on top, and she needed no convincing when asked to fill someone's sexual desire that had been caused by hormones and curiosity. Being the kind person he was, Sam didn't think her a slut, more of a lost cause. It sounded cliché, but he was sure she was a relatively decent person underneath.

After all, it seemed that only Brittany really knew Santana for more than the sex, and as her new boyfriend, Sam wanted to know her as well. That proved to be more difficult than he had expected, for he never really got the chance to talk before she would steal his lips again. It was almost as if she only wanted him to piss off her ex-best friend and his ex-girlfriend Quinn.  
He took her to that McDonald's near his house and tried to make her jump in the ball pit with him. She stood there with her hands crossed over her chest and a disappointed scowl on her face. "You're such a dork, Sam. Do you know how sad you'd be if I weren't your girlfriend?"

Only a bit disappointed, he began juggling two of the plastic balls - one green and one red. "Oh yeah? So why are you my girlfriend?" he dared to ask. There was a split second when he thought he saw something in her eye, but before he could better explore it, she rolled them as if to retort _'you're being childish.'_

Santana Lopez was like his gym locker. Because he was the new kid, the boys would switch his lock or put something in it as initiation. He never knew what would happen when he tried to open it. This was very much similar to his quest of exploring the inner soul of Santana Lopez - his girlfriend. He couldn't seem to stress that fact enough.

Often she would invite herself into his house and lead the way up to his room because she was always in charge. Her eyes would scan the room for a few moments before pursing her lips and mumbling about how stupid his posters were or how messy his closet was. "Bakugan aren't cool," she told him one day, focusing her gaze on the spherical plastic monsters that rested on his dresser.

"You know about Bakugan?" he responded with curiosity and a twinge of victory at discovering this new trivia about _The_ Santana Lopez.

She made a noise that sounded a bit like she was trying to spit and suck in air at the same time before making her way to the bed and patting the covers to invite him to join her. Sam obliged, feeling victorious.

Sometimes Sam would help her study for classes. They'd do homework together, and she would glumly twirl her pencil in her hand and blow her bangs out of her face (she'd abandon the headband the moment she was out of the hallways and in his car. He would look up every few moments and notice little doodles in the margins of Santana's notebook paper and study them. Santana had a habit of drawing kittens with cute beady eyes and pitiful faces and long beautiful fur with whiskers that shaped their faces quite nicely. The most amazing part, they looked exactly like real kittens as well.

"You're a great artist," he commented without daring to look up. Her grip on the pencil stiffened when he said that.

Before she replied, she made sure she wasn't stiff anymore. "It's nothing," she said nonchalantly and turned to the math textbook that lay in front of her.

"Do you take lessons?" Sam asked, honestly curious about her talents and hobbies.

Santana looked up at him with narrow eyes as if suspecting another angle. "No, that's a waste of time."

Sam could tell that his eyes had widened exasperatedly. "Dude? Are you serious? You could get an art scholarship with that kind of gift!"

The Latina looked down at her doodles and bit the tip of her pencil. "I'm not that good." He knew he had already convinced her otherwise.

Sam asked her if she liked video games on the first Friday of April. "No, but I could beat your ass at them," she declared with a serious tone.

"Is that a challenge?" He had replied with a smirk and waved the second controller at her. On the first Friday of April, Santana Lopez had totally pwned Samuel Evans at every single co-play game he owned.

After learning this much about Santana, Sam decided to take her back to the McDonald's and personally make her play in the ball pit with him. "Come on, Sanny, it will be so much fun!"

"Fuck off, Evans! I wouldn't be caught dead in there!"

At this Sam playfully scolded her with a disappointed frown, "Santana! Language!" Before she could retort with something that would undoubtedly make him squirm in the middle of the night, she tripped and fell over. This caused both him and her to fall back into the pit of plastic balls.

Sam expected her to curse him or run away, but what he heard was something that surprised even him. Santana Lopez was laughing — and playing — in a ball pit. She tossed a purple ball at him which he batted at vigorously with his hands. She stopped laughing suddenly and looked down at her lap.

Sam thought she was going to get angry at him, so he picked up her face and made her stare into his eyes. He had been told a thousand times that no one could be angry at his eyes. Instead of vile words that seeped venom through her clenched teeth, her voice was soft and weak and so… vulnerable. Almost. "This isn't supposed to happen this way."

The blonde saw a shimmer that blinked through her caramel brown eyes. "What way?" he asked in a soft voice because it just felt like there needed to be soft voices in this moment.

"I'm not, you're not supposed to be so close to me!" Santana pulled away suddenly and put on her best scowl. Her eyes were threatening to spill over in tears.

He grabbed her hand and pulled her into a hug. "I'm not supposed to mean anything to you. I'm not supposed to break your walls down. I'm just supposed to fulfill your physical needs." Sam couldn't believe it. Santana Lopez was /crying/ into his chest. It was inhuman. "But you want this."

She nodded into him; he had figured it all out exactly. "I can't depend on you."

Sam chuckled. "You have to have somebody to depend on," he reassured her. "I know you too well now for you to just turn away, even if you're _the_ Santana Lopez." He could tell she was scowling at this. "But underneath that thick layer of snark and promiscuity…" he pulled her back to look into her eyes, "you're just a dork."

The Latina couldn't help but grin at his statement before throwing a red ball at his face. "Ow!" he cried, clinching his nose. "Charlie, that really hurt!"

Santana bopped him on the head. "I don't know if you've heard, but your impressions are totally stupid."

Sam smirked and kissed his girlfriend on her forehead. "You'll still keep me, right?" Santana never did answer the question, but she kept throwing balls at him. He assumed that meant yes.


End file.
